


'Cause Without You, There Is No Home

by Miracle_Novelist



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Behind the Scenes, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Good Draco Malfoy, Healthy Relationships, Malfoy Manor (Harry Potter), Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28687218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miracle_Novelist/pseuds/Miracle_Novelist
Summary: After the Dark Lord moves into Malfoy Manor, he starts making his followers do things they don't want to do. And if there's anything to know about Draco Malfoy, it's that he doesn't like being forced into things he doesn't want to do.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	'Cause Without You, There Is No Home

He stayed in his room for a long while after that, on his windowsill, looking ponderously out into the gardens. Draco had no control over what just happened. Voldemort asked if he would make a good soldier, and he had said yes. He wasn’t asked if he _wanted_ to be one. At that, he probably would’ve said something along the lines of: Actually, I am looking into getting an outstanding on my potions N.E.W.Ts this year, I’m quite skilled in the subject and find it interesting enough that I could most definitely make a career out of it. But no, no one asked him what he wanted, only what he could bring to the table; the _dining_ table where Draco saw a woman die before his very own grey eyes. He didn’t much like muggles, but they didn’t deserve to die, certainly not like that. 

The peacocks were shuffling around the patio, pecking at the fallen leaves curiously. The quiet moments he spent with Mother out there no longer happened, not since that dreadful arsehole moved in. The birds were starting to test where they could and couldn’t go. Soon they’d take over the conservatory, the pests.

Mother told him to stay in his room, not to wander, to keep his head down. Since when did Draco have to hide in his family’s _own_ bloody manor? He scoffed at the thought, and turned to look around his bedroom. He supposed he could find something to do. He reckoned he’d be writing Blaise, Pansy, and Snape a great deal this summer. He crossed his arms, and instantly regretted it. The mark still burned like fiendfyre. Draco inhaled sharply, which came out as a hiss when the pain didn’t subside. He raised his wrist to have a look, skin throbbing with the beat of his heart. Lip curling, he inspected the undulating skull and snake. It felt alive there on his forearm, as though it was looking at him. Something acidic settled in his stomach, and despite the pain it caused, Draco rolled his sleeve down.

\---

Father’s study wasn’t usually this dull and cold. He usually had the fire going and house elves bringing him snacks while he worked. Now, the only light inside was a few candles around the room, and a stranger sat in Lucius Malfoy’s chair. Draco rolled his shoulders as he entered. The bulky werewolf shut the door behind him, leaving the blonde alone with the Dark Lord himself. This was the first time he was abandoned with the man. He tried to forget about his nerves and venture deeper into the room. His parents tried to teach the fidgety behavior out of him at a young age, and hopefully it would come in handy now. If he wasn’t very focused about not seeming weak or scared, Draco would be picking things up idly and playing with them. He did it a lot with books; he’d pick them up, feel the pages as he ran his thumb over them, and then set it down again. 

“Draco,” Voldemort hissed seductively, “Come closer.”

Shivers ran up and down his arms, he blamed it on the combination of the creepiness and the chill in the room.

“How is your summer going so far?” 

Draco tried to ignore the man’s intense stare. If Voldemort was trying to get information out of him; he wouldn’t get any. He wouldn’t.

“Boring,” he said plainly.

“Maybe a job would entertain you,” he smirked.

“A job?” He tried not to scoff.

“More...of a project, I would say. Two projects, in fact.” Voldemort was quiet for a minute; pensive. “Are you a team player Draco?”

“I can be.”

“Good,” he purred, his pointed teeth showed behind his pale, cracked lips. “Alecto will show you the first step soon enough. Once you finish the tasks, you will be rewarded generously.”

Draco tightened the fist in his front pocket, “And what are these tasks?”

Voldemort leaned forward slowly, conniving smile dismissed off of his freakish features. Draco expected him to order him to stop asking questions, follow him blindly; try to frighten Draco into submission, like usual. The talons on his fingers clacked together.

“There is a vanishing cabinet hidden in the room of requirement inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” he said dreadfully slow. “You are to fix it with the help of an allied craftsman.”

Sounded easy enough. How hard could fixing a silly cabinet be? “And the second?”

Draco made the mistake of catching The Dark Lord’s red eyes, and then he was stuck. Defiance burned within Draco and threatened to explode through his eyes. He grit his teeth, blankly staring down the scaly shite. “Kill Professor Dumbledore,” he rolled his Rs lowly.

“What?” Draco forgot to think before he spoke. It didn’t make sense. Voldemort sat back in his chair, so the blonde went on hoping to clear up his reaction. “I’m merely a student, how am I supposed to...kill one of the most powerful wizards in the world?”

The man in his father’s chair only looked back at him ambiguously, fingers together and unreadable expression in-place.

“Are you not up to the task,” it was a simple question, but it held weight. Draco knew if he refused this task, he would lose standing with the Dark Lord, not only for himself, but his family too. What’s to keep Voldemort from killing them all, if they’re not useful? His mother's face flashed through his mind, nodding in her unnoticeable way.

“I am.”

“Excellent,” still, the insane mirth that was on his face when Draco entered the office hadn’t returned, “Do not concern yourself with the ‘how’s my boy, sufficient help will be given to aid you. You’re dismissed.”

Draco left as fast as he could without looking as defeated as he felt. When he arrived safely back in his room, the windowsill is where he went. To sit and watch the peacocks idle around the flowers and bushes. He didn’t sit there long before he got up again. He began a letter to Blaise. He was very helpful when it came to planning, but not so much at comforting. Halfway through the letter, he started one for Pansy. His friends were the only form of fun he had this summer, not even reading the dark magic books was entertaining enough to satisfy him. He needed social stimulation; he needed people to talk to. He’d even give anything to have a pick at Harry Potter. Anything to take his mind off of this shite.

\---

It was raining, of course it was raining. They couldn’t have gone out to Knockturn Alley on any other day. It made sense, Draco guessed. They had more cover holding big, obnoxious umbrellas over their heads. Considering, they were doing something very very illegal, it was probably for the best. Draco had only been to Knockturn Alley a handful of times, and all of those times, his parents hadn’t stayed long. There were throngs of homeless witches and wizards in the narrow passageways, some smelled so dirty and rotted, Draco’s stomach turned over. When the group he traveled with finally arrived at the antique shop, two death eaters stood guard outside.

The old man behind the counter didn’t say a word as they shuffled into the oddities shop. Draco ignored him right back, following the Carrow to the back of the store. He looked back at the entrance of the store, not quite sure what he was looking for. Was he expecting ten aurors to break it down and take him to Azkaban? He swallowed at the thought.

“Here,” Alecto stopped at a tall, angular cabinet. A Vanishing Cabinet. “During the Dark Lord’s first rise, they put one inside Hogwarts for quick escapes, this is it’s twin.”

Draco eyed the thing up and down, the inky blackness of it; the intricate designs embedded into it. It was far too elegant to be sitting in this shop. 

“Why aren’t we bringing it to the manor?”

The Carrow scoffed and Draco tried not to feel like a halfwit. She looked around the store, sharp eyes landing on the man at the desk. “Mr. Borgan, would you presume fixing a Vanishing Cabinet to be an easy task?”

“Depends on its state of disrepair,” he replied lamely. He continued reading his novel.

Alecto sauntered up the counter while Draco held his breath. She unbuttoned the sleeve of her pristine grey shirt and pulled it up, showing the dark mark to the shop owner. He stood up slowly, realization dawning on his features. Though, he didn’t look surprised. 

“How can I help.”

“Tell us how to fix a vanishing cabinet and guide the young Malfoy here while he does it,” Draco tried not to shove off her hand on his shoulder. He didn’t like people touching him, especially slimy ones.

“As I said, without knowing the damages, there’s no way I can safely tell how to repair it. Would you be able to bring it in-”

“No. You will have to make due with the information Mr. Malfoy gives you. If you cannot, The Dark Lord will be highly disappointed,” she lowered her voice, “and there’s no telling what he’ll do if he feels his allies aren’t _...agreeable.”_

Mr. Borgan nodded, “Very well, what information can you give me about this elusive vanishing cabinet?”

“I haven’t taken a look yet,” Draco said evenly, challenging the man with his grey eyes.

Borgan sighed through his nostrils, but said nothing.

“We will be back early September for your expertise,” Alecto turned and left the store with Draco in tow. He tried to even his breathing, and was somewhat successful, but his hands were shaking in his pockets. He didn’t want to take his umbrella out in fear of Alecto noticing. Thankfully, they apparated to Malfoy Manner immediately after leaving the store. Draco wiped off the small amount of rain that had reached his cheeks as his mother rushed to his side gracefully.

“It went well, I assume.”

“You assume correctly,” Alecto replied for him. He swallowed his disdain for the woman and held his mother’s hand. She must’ve noticed his trembling because she tightened her grip, almost painfully. 

“The Dark Lord will want an update,” Narcissa stated. “I have some business with my son elsewhere,” she then pulled him out of the entrance hall and into a parlor. The hearth cradled a low fire that filled the room with warmth. Draco hadn’t noticed how cold he actually was from walking down the passageways of Knockturn Alley. He leaned against one of the sofas and sighed, not realizing there was someone already in the parlor.

“Snape, what are you doing in here?”

“I had some business to attend to,” the man said with caution. “How did your...errand go?”

“Perfectly fine,” Draco said shortly. A second after he said it, he realized how defensive he sounded.

“Very well,” he raised a quizzical eyebrow and exited the parlor, dark robes billowing behind him like a cape. Narcissa closed the door and locked it behind his godfather. That was when the blonde collapsed on the soft settee and closed his eyes. He wanted to tear off the suit his mother made him wear, he couldn’t lay anywhere comfortably.

“Are you quite alright Dragon?”

“I have to be,” he muttered, his arm draped over his forehead and eyes. The shoulder of his suit felt like it could split at any moment, and Draco didn’t care one bit. He just hoped he could accomplish his tasks. He hadn’t even thought about his second one yet. Kill Dumbledore. Bloody Hell. How was Draco supposed to do something no other wizard in the world could do?

Draco looked up at his mother as she sat next to his legs.

“You can do this,” she said reassuringly.

“How?”

“With help,” she placed her hand on his chest and gave it a comforting pat.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if I'll be able to keep this on a regular schedule, but I'm going to damn well try.


End file.
